Chapter 38: "Ghostbusting with a Side of Possession"
In which Naruto steals my body (politely), chains some ghosts, and possibly invents spectral sushi.
It was a calm night in Amity Park—if by "calm" you meant completely crawling with paranormal freeloaders who didn't know how to use a doorbell.
Ghosts. Dozens of them. Some big, some small, all floating around like they'd just been released from an ectoplasmic Costco. And in the middle of it all? A glowing figure soaring silently above the rooftops—technically Danny Fenton, but spiritually? All Naruto.
See, while Danny snoozed like a champ inside the comfort of his own mind, Naruto had borrowed the reins for the evening. With great power came great multitasking, and Naruto wasn't about to let all this spectral drama go to waste.
He needed intel.
What kinds of ghosts were leaking in from the other side? Were they your run-of-the-mill grumpy librarian phantoms or "burn-your-soul-with-one-look" class entities? Because if Amity Park was going to be Ghost Central, someone had to play scout. And Danny—still adjusting to his whole "glow-in-the-dark ninja boy" thing—wasn't quite ready for that role yet.
So Naruto flew, arms folded, eyes narrowed in full Ghost Hokage mode. His senses stretched wide, feeling every shiver in the Yin energy field. Below him, the city streets whispered with spirit residue. Spectral fog drifted lazily between buildings. And the ghosts?
Yeah, they were definitely not here for a block party.
They crept along the rooftops, hovered above the alleys, moaned dramatically near bus stops (because apparently, ghosts are extra like that). Most of them weren't even powerful—more like angry leftovers from bad breakups or unsolved mysteries. But they were growing in number, feeding off the portal's spiritual radiation like moths to a mystical bug-zapper.
Naruto didn't need a dramatic speech or fancy moves to act. He simply raised one hand and flicked his will outward like he was swiping on a ghost-themed dating app.
Poof.
Thin cracks opened in the sky. Ethereal chains—delicate and glowing, like starlight woven into steel—slithered out. They moved with the smooth precision of a shinobi's strike, wrapping around the nearest ghosts before the spirits even knew what hit them.
The captured ghosts wailed. Not like actual pain wailing—more like the ghost version of "I didn't sign up for this!"
Naruto studied them, letting their emotions wash over him: bitterness, confusion, fear... a healthy dose of "humans are the worst." These were low-tier specters, the type that haunted vending machines or made your socks go missing. Not dangerous individually—but as a swarm?
They could become something worse.
With a calm breath, Naruto pulled them in.
No drama. No neon light show. Just a quiet siphoning of energy that merged the lost souls into his chakra system, purifying them, recycling their essence. The ghosts vanished, their anger gently unwound like old yarn, and Naruto felt the resulting boost ripple through Danny's new ghost-enhanced body.
"That's one problem down," Naruto muttered, adjusting his grip on the air. "Now for the ten thousand others."
As he floated higher for a better view of the city, Naruto began sorting mental checklists like a spiritual war tactician:
Secure the area.
Monitor Yin radiation output.
Train Danny so he doesn't accidentally phase into a bank vault.
Keep an eye on stronger ghosts bound to come sniffing around like cursed chihuahuas.
And then there was the suit.
The Gabumon-inspired armor Danny wore? Yeah, that wasn't just metal anymore. The Yin energy had merged it into his very essence. What once looked like a flashy cosplay costume now pulsed like living armor—blackened at the edges, enhanced in density, reinforced by spirit-bound tech.
Naruto tested the reflexes—perfect synergy. He tested the power flow—clean, strong, steady. The gadgets he'd built? They were no longer separate. They existed with Danny now, part of his transformation. Gauntlets were mapped into his wrists. Sensors linked to his eyes. Detectors synced with his heartbeat.
It was almost poetic. And slightly terrifying.
But Naruto wasn't smiling because of the upgrades. He was smiling because he could see it now—the path forward. The way Danny would grow. The future battles, the looming threats, the hidden enemies just waiting to reveal themselves.
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Perched atop the city's tallest clock tower like a gargoyle with excellent hair, Naruto Uzumaki surveyed the chaos below with the sort of expression you'd expect from a war general—or a very tired babysitter.
Amity Park, once a relatively boring slice of suburban life, had officially crossed into Cursed Urban Fantasy territory. Ghosts were out. In force. They crept along rooftops, floated between alleyways, and occasionally stopped to shriek ominously at pigeons.
And no, before you ask, they weren't the kind of ghosts who whispered "I have unfinished business." These guys had plenty of business. Mostly bad.
Naruto sighed, arms folded, cloak fluttering in the wind like he'd rehearsed the pose in a mirror. (He hadn't. Probably.)
"The portal was supposed to make things easier," he muttered. "Instead, it's like opening a ramen shop during demon rush hour."
He wasn't wrong.
When Jack Fenton—mad scientist extraordinaire—built the Ghost Portal, his logic had been sound in a very "let's-poke-a-dimensional-bear" kind of way. One doorway to let ghosts in and out? Manageable. Tactical. Kind of like the Demon Gate from Naruto's world, only with more neon.
But what no one accounted for was the leak. Yin energy had seeped out like a slow faucet, and now Amity Park glowed on the ghost radar like a five-star haunted buffet. And the city? Yeah, it had all the ingredients ghosts apparently loved: emotions, chaos, unresolved trauma, and late-night taco trucks.
Naruto squinted down at a particularly angry poltergeist trying to flip over a bench. "You're not even scary," he muttered. "You're just petty."
With a sigh, he turned his thoughts inward, focusing on Danny—the real star of this supernatural sitcom.
Danny Fenton, high schooler, science accident, and now proud owner of "the haunted metabolism of doom." His transformation wasn't just rare—it was nearly impossible. A human who'd partially merged with ghost energy? That was like trying to fuse a ninja with a shadow clone of a thunderstorm.
And it worked.
Mostly.
Naruto's memories flicked back to his own transformation—when he became the host of Kurama, the Nine-Tails. That bond had been forged through trial, pain, and the occasional fistfight with a voice in his head. If he could guide Danny the same way—taming the storm, balancing both halves—maybe the kid had a shot.
Maybe more than just him.
Naruto's eyes narrowed.
"If Danny can handle it... maybe others can too."
It was just a thought. A dangerous one. But one worth exploring. If he could bond a willing human with a ghost—form a spiritual pact, something stable—it might be the only way to fight back against the rising threat.
Because oh yeah, the ghosts were getting stronger.
The ones Naruto had captured earlier were weaklings. Background actors. But already, stronger entities were stirring—creatures with intelligence, malice, and power levels that could give even him pause.
He could feel it. A storm gathering in the far reaches of the Ghost Zone. Something ancient. Hungry.
"Of course," Naruto grumbled, floating off the tower. "Because things can't just be simple."
He soared silently over the city, his cloak brushing against the night like a second shadow. Below him, the world was oblivious. Streetlights flickered. A cat yowled. Somewhere, a microwave beeped. Normal life, blissfully unaware of the metaphysical circus happening overhead.
His form shimmered with Yin energy, every move deliberate, graceful, controlled. His new halfling body felt... strange, but right. Lighter. More agile. His senses reached further, his chakra danced on the wind like starlight.
He summoned a spectral chain, twirling it lazily as he hovered above a bakery that reeked of both frosting and mild haunting.
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Danny Phantom—now part ghost, part teenage chaos gremlin—was living his best afterlife inside his own dreams.
He zoomed through an endless sky, the wind slicing past his ears like a soundtrack to his newfound freedom. Clouds parted before him like they'd signed a waiver. He swooped down through a forest, casually phasing through trees like he was the world's chillest chainsaw, then shot upward in a corkscrew motion, green energy bursting from his hands and eyes like he was auditioning for the Ghostbusters' reboot... as the villain.
"Oh man," Danny grinned, doing a backflip midair. "If this is what being half-dead feels like, sign me up."
Of course, that's exactly when the universe decided to stop playing nice.
A meteor—no, a woman-shaped missile made entirely of chaos and bad intentions—came flying in from the clouds like someone had yelled, "KONAN, GO LONG!"
Before Danny could say "Wait, is that the paper lady from Naruto?" the dream world exploded in a shockwave of confetti death and existential panic.
WHU-BAM!
Trees vaporized. The sky fractured. And Danny, now spinning like a haunted Beyblade, heard a familiar, incredibly unimpressed voice.
"What did I tell you about always keeping your guard up?"
Naruto.
Because of course he was narrating his dreams now too.
Danny shook off the mental glitter bomb and snapped into survival mode. With barely a thought, he formed a glowing green barrier around himself, just in time to block another volley of flying origami death notes.
Konan hovered in the air, calm as a librarian, eyes sharp enough to cut through steel.
"She's in my dream, and she still looks like she's judging me," Danny muttered, wincing as more paper bombs bounced off his barrier like angry bees.
"Now that's what I like to see," Naruto's voice echoed approvingly, somewhere above the mayhem. "Not bad. You actually used a brain cell this time."
"Gee, thanks, sensei," Danny muttered, tightening the barrier.
Naruto appeared a moment later, floating beside Danny like this was some kind of spiritual obstacle course field trip. He gave Danny a once-over, nodding.
"You've got power now. Real power. Not that 'I hope this doesn't short out my sneakers' junk you had before. That means we can finally start your actual training."
Danny blinked. "Wait, this wasn't training?"
Naruto smirked. "Nope. This was the tutorial level. Now? We're bumping up to 'Nightmare Mode.'"
Behind them, Konan raised her hands again, and about a thousand paper shuriken fanned out like a politely furious thunderstorm.
Danny sighed. "You guys really need to work on your definition of 'mentorship.'"
Naruto just gave him a grin that spelled disaster.
"Lesson One: You can't fight ghosts if you're still scared of paper."
And just like that, the world exploded again.
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Most parents, when they wake up in the middle of the night, panic over things like the oven being left on or the Wi-Fi being down.
Jack and Maddie Fenton? They woke up to ghost invasion alarms.
Red lights flashed across the ceiling like a rave gone wrong, and the entire Fenton household hummed with energy as a dozen klaxons screamed, "GHOSTS! GHOSTS! GHOSTS!" in that pleasant, migraine-inducing robotic voice Jack had programmed himself. (Yes, he gave it the same voice as their blender. No, Maddie never forgave him.)
"Oh sweet spooky biscuits," Jack said, hopping out of bed and landing in his slippers with military precision. "The ghost sensors are tripping citywide!"
Maddie was already halfway into her bodysuit, goggles on and blaster charging by the time Jack finished the sentence.
"Low levels don't set the alarms," she muttered. "This isn't just a few lost spirits. Something big triggered this."
Jack grinned like a kid on Halloween. "You're thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Absolutely," she said, strapping on her gauntlets. "Battle date night."
With their suits fully equipped, the Fentons looked less like suburban scientists and more like a ghost-hunting version of Iron Man and Ripley from Aliens had decided to co-parent.
Their armor, of course, was no ordinary cosplay. Years of "voluntary" testing on themselves had made Jack and Maddie above-human in stamina, strength, and definitely poor decision-making skills. Their reinforced exoskeletons kicked it up another ten notches.
With a fzzzt-kachunk, Maddie's boots locked in place. "Bio-readings calibrated. Systems online."
"Ghost punchers engaged!" Jack added, slamming his fist into his palm.
They piled into the Fenton Battle Wagon, a bright green armored monstrosity that looked like a tank had eaten a Winnebago. As always, it roared to life with the subtlety of a dinosaur on espresso.
"Ghost sonar's up!" Jack shouted over the growl of the engine. "Reading... uh-oh. We've got a lot of pings."
Outside, Amity Park still looked peaceful. Streetlights flickered. Lawns were trimmed. One dog barked at a mailbox.
But above the surface, in the places the Fenton radars could see? The city was lighting up like a haunted Christmas tree.
Their house, thankfully, was still a safe zone. The Fenton Barrier Grid hummed over the rooftops, a protective dome that made their property a ghost no-go zone. It had kept the neighborhood safe for years—although it had also turned away a few confused mailmen and made a raccoon cry once. (It's a long story.)
"Alright," Maddie said, flipping the safety off her shoulder cannon. "Let's see which ghosts didn't read the neighborhood watch sign."
As the Battle Wagon tore through the streets, its tires squealing and sonar pinging faster than Jack could count, Maddie checked the readings again.
"They're not all hostile," she said, "but there are definitely a few high-threat types. Ectoplasmic signature is off the charts."
Jack grinned even harder. "Oh, this is gonna be awesome."
Somewhere in the distance, a mailbox exploded.